This entry skips ahead to Sunday, but it's a good summary. Given that folks are probably wondering ... I thought it would be the best first post. More to come.

 Sunday October 23 – 8:39A

It is incredible. It is shocking. It is heartbreaking.

After four days of Hurricane Wilma, the winds are finally dying down here in Cozumel. I don’t know much about hurricane’s, but this must be the longest hurricane on record.

Wind speeds (I would guess) are probably sustained around the upper 40s, with higher gusts. It’s low enough for the bulk of everyone to be out and about, taking pictures. While the damage will be here for months to photograph, I think folks just simply want out of their rooms.

I did not have any expectations for this hurricane – except only to believe the newscaster when he said it would be catastrophic. Now, looking back, I can see whatever idea I had – was still naive. This storm is humbling and I’ve never felt my humanity more than during this storm. I never was scared to survive this storm. I felt safe; I guess; if you’d call it that. There were moments I was scared – like when the sliding doors were buckling and I was certain they would break – but I never thought I would die. In comparison, this storm, while violent and deadly, does not compare to my experience underwater with the current. Degree of fear and what I think I can do to survive, is probably a factor.

We are still on the 4^th floor. We were supposed to move to the third, but didn’t. We have abandoned our original room - room 59, where we tried to fight the storm with our sliding glass door shut. The windows leaked like a sieve, producing buckets (literally) of water ever 20 minutes or so. Basically, we used the waste baskets in our room to collect the water and prevent as much flooding as possible. We used the water the flush the toilets – which, after a couple uses, started smelling like we were living in a sewer. Being on the northern end of the building, the wind was howling and crashing against us with incredible force. I moved my bed to the bathroom and tried to make the best of it from the bedding and a few towels. It wasn’t comfortable – but who really cared. I just wanted to be safe. After many hours of the hurricane force winds blowing on the door, we realized it would be much better if it were open. I guess we sort of knew that, but didn’t really realize what a difference it would make. Maybe it was the fear of exposure. It is quite an experience to realize your once dry room, is taking on water (which we’re bailing out by buckets) and then decide to open the doors and windows. Obviously the force was much improved, but we had waited too long. Structurally, it was already weakened in the frame.

Finally, after the realization that the windows would certainly break, we moved two rooms down (which was vacant). This room (61) was much better situated. The only window was the glass door. It was still facing the ocean, as all the rooms do on the 4^th floor. However, since it is on the southern end, it wasn’t getting as much of the wind. Considering it was 140+ mph windows everywhere, slightly less force is better – but only marginally. Learning from our past experience, we left the door open.

Walking in the hurricane to the other room wasn’t too bad. It was a short distance. The winds were incredible, but I didn’t ever feel as though I’d fly away like the house in Wizard of Oz. I crouched down low next to the railing and hurried.  Perhaps if I stood completely upright and opened my body like a kite, I could have caught the wind. It certainly was faster and stronger than any wind I’ve ever known. The sand, or maybe it was just the piercing rain, felt like getting your skin sandblasted. It certainly was not wise to walk around with exposed skin for very long. There didn’t seem to be that many objects flying around in the air. However, we were on the ocean with not much to blow our way. On the hand, visibility was probably 50 feet.

One hotel guy kept coming up the 4 flights of steps to check on us. The steps to our rooms are a straight shot up a fairly exposed staircase. I could only consider the guy deeply caring and slightly crazy. As far as I could tell, he didn’t get much sleep. He was helping others and checking on the hotel. Even him, a resident of the island and long time worker here – says it’s the worse he’s ever seen.

Once in the new room, I immediately headed for the bathroom and started making a bed. I can feel the wind pressure in my ears. There’s no way to equalize. It’s like being in that “popping” ears sensation you get on the plane (or diving) and it never stops. It would continue like that for days. The bathrooms are all situated on a step above the main floor. I can see now, this is probably not a coincidence in building design. In a hurricane like this, you *will* go the bathroom for shelter. It’s not a matter of if the rooms will flood, but how much. It *will* be wet everywhere. Luckily in the room there was an extra mattress, which we propped up against the doorway to the bathroom. At first we used it to deaden the noise, but we would learn later what a blessing it would be.

After a two days of the storm (Saturday) we were getting increasingly worried about food. I braced for the worst and was already rationing what I had. I had already consumed what they originally gave me (sandwich and a chicken plate). Most of it had some sort of meat or eggs. With no power, I was concerned about it spoiling in the (still) warm and muggy heat. I tried to hold out as long as I thought would be okay – and my stomach could take. The rest of the food on hand was snack food. Most of the more nutritious food that I brought for diving (from home) was gone. Just some beef jerky and natural fruit leather left. The rest we purchased here – granola, granola bars, and candy. All very high in sugar. We ate it nonetheless. We had no idea when we’d get food again.

The most worrisome news that we received on Saturday was that the storm was not going away by 11 AM as first predicted. It had slowed down to 3 miles per hour. After the (slight) eye had hit us, it was stuck near Cancun. The hurricane winds and weather would be continuing for at least a day more. We asked about food. We asked about water.

It’s hard to be in a situation like this and ask for something. In the grand scheme of things, I am safe. I have shelter and enough water (if I drink it carefully). I believe the building won’t give way. I believe I will survive. I can only imagine (after days of hurricane force winds) what this island looks like. It will take months, if not years, to repair. I can imagine that some homes are not as protected as this. Some folks have lost all their belongings, maybe even died. To consider this is sobering. To sit in my room, mostly dry – alive – and ask for something or even consider “what I don’t have” is too difficult and heart wrenching. I could only think about how I’m blessed. How at some point, I’ll eventually go home and leave all this behind. Meanwhile, the story continues for the residents here. They will be picking up the pieces for a long while to come.